


Standard Procedure

by Webhoard



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-15 20:45:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11238852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Webhoard/pseuds/Webhoard
Summary: McCoy thought he was married to the job. But when he meets you, he can’t seem get you out of his head. And oddly enough, you can’t seem to stop thinking about him either.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a reader insert, technically, but I’ve tried to focus on Leonard’s POV more in order to better address the request. I think it worked? Also, I have no medical experience, and it’s been years since I’ve worked in a lab (and even then, I was running tests on plant stems and roots, not blood or whatnot). I just kind ad-libbed the lab stuff based on my own lab experience.

Leonard walked with a slight skip in his step as he made his way to the medical testing lab. His light gait and bright expression seemed almost inappropriate, if only because of the small test tube of blood that he was tossing from hand to hand. But there was a good reason that he, the CMO, was running a blood sample to the lab himself, rather than having a nurse do it. The reason was you. 

* * *

Several weeks ago, he had had to run a whole tray of samples for testing to the lab when the medbay had been short staffed near the end of a beta shift. At the time, he had been rather irritated with the inconvenience as he tried to walk with purpose without getting lost, trying to find the medical testing lab in the labyrinth—no pun intended—of halls in the biochem department. That irritation, however, had faded somewhat when he met you. In his mind, the people who ran his various medical tests had been faceless and probably bored and inattentive lab techs. It’s not that he didn’t value the lab’s work, but you know what they say: out of sight, out of mind. The latter bit had been mostly true, there was nothing particularly riveting about routine lab work, but you were no longer faceless. And Dr. McCoy, the captain’s cantankerous friend and CMO, who always had some quip or another, found himself uncharacteristically at a loss for words when he came face to face with you.

“Ah, Dr. McCoy, welcome to salt mines.” You looked up at your CMO, your tone only slightly sarcastic. You’d only briefly met him about a year ago during intake and orientation for the five-year mission when he went over the standard procedures for the Enterprise and how he tended to run the medbay. You had paid little heed to what had been said and done in that meeting because you, like everyone on the Enterprise, were not only qualified for this, but also had been rushed, stressed, and desperately trying to make final preparations for this unprecedented mission when he decided that a staff meeting was warranted. Other than that initial meeting, you’d hadn’t interacted with him, but you did see him about the ship. 

“Uh, Ensign, Y/LN, right?” Leonard was taken aback by the sight of you. Sure you’d sassed him a bit, but what took him by surprise was the way the light hit your hair, the way you walked over to him and took the tray, the way you smiled at him in spite of yet another tray of test tubes to add to your ever growing pile.

“Yes, sir. What tests would you like run on these samples?” You asked him as you began recording the test tube labels in a spreadsheet on your PADD. You noticed that he was staring at you just ever so slightly.

“What? Oh, um, you’ll just need to run the standard panel on the lot.” He said, still looking at you and furrowing his brows in concentration, or was it something else?

“Yes, sir. Will do.” You replied simply. You returned to your spreadsheet. You had only input one test tube label into the PADD before slowly looking up, suspecting that your CMO had still not left. And yep, sure enough, he was still standing in front of you, looking at you and then looking away. 

“Sir? Did you need me to run more tests, or…” You looked up at him expectantly. He seemed to snap out of it.

“Uh, yeah, the uh, the tests. Make sure that you add these samples to next spot in the queue.” He said this in a rather forced manner.

“Of course, sir. It’s standard protocol.” You looked at him as if still expecting further instruction.

“Right, well, carry on then, Ensign.” He said as he quickly turned and practically fled the lab.

“Hey, Y/N, what the hell did you do to McCoy?” One of your lab mates, Kara, asked teasingly as she walked past you.

“I have no idea.” You muttered, puzzled by the entire interaction.

Meanwhile in the hall, Leonard was internally berating himself for acting like a fool and letting a pretty face get under his skin like that. Ever since his divorce, he had married himself to his job. While his best friend Jim still enjoyed casual but respectful flings with the many women he met, McCoy couldn’t do it. Sex without romance was not something that particularly appealed to him, but neither was opening up his heart to someone else again. But you, something about you was making him question both of these closely held convictions, which was of course ridiculous as he’d only just met you and had barely eked out ten coherently strung together words.

“Pull yourself together McCoy…damn fool.” He muttered softly to himself, running a hand through his hair and straightening out his shirt before making his way back to the medbay. He was not going to let a pretty face upset the routines and habits he’d fallen into in the years since his divorce, or at least, that was what he told himself.

* * *

Back in the present, Leonard rounded the corner and into your lab as if he’d done so a hundred times before. What had transpired in the intervening weeks? What had made him go from reluctantly admitting that you were beautiful, but a distraction, to wanting to pursue you? The hell if he knew. All he knew was that you weren’t going anywhere, and neither it seemed were his growing feelings for you, so he might as well just lean into it.

“Hey there, Y/LN,” he called, a slight smile gracing his face, “I’ve got a test sample for you to run.”

“Ooh, Christmas has come early I see.” You said taking the vial. “I’m gonna go out on a limb and say you want the standard Vulcan panel on this sample,” you added seeing the dark green hue of the blood.

“That would be correct,” McCoy smirked at you. You smiled back, hesitantly.

“So, Dr. McCoy,” you started with some trepidation, “I’ve got to ask. Why have you been running your samples down here yourself? You know you can send a nurse if it’s urgent or comm one of us up the medbay to collect them. You know, standard procedures and all.” You weren’t intending to be rude or anything; it was just puzzling to you that the CMO was running such menial errands when there was no need for him to do so. Didn’t he have more pressing concerns to attend? Or was there a specific reason for these visits? You?

“Oh, well, I don’t mind.” He felt his face warm slightly and couldn’t help but look a little deflated at your words, “Besides it gives me a chance to stretch my legs and get out of the medbay, I suppose…” He trailed off and looked at you through his eyelashes, inching away from you ever so slightly. You just nodded in understanding, inputting some info into your PADD.

“I guess that makes sense. I didn’t mean to sound like you didn’t know protocol, I just didn’t want you wasting time with these little errands.” You were trying to backpedal from your previous questions. “Feel free to− uh, jog on down here whenever you need.”

“Of course,” he replied, looking at you expectantly. The intensity of his stare stole your breath away for a fleeting moment and much to your chagrin, your heart fluttered slightly. “Well, I’ll uh, let you get to it.” He said, giving you a small smile and turning to leave.

You watched him as he somewhat hesitantly started to walk out of the lab, a sharp contrast to that jarring first visit those few weeks ago. At first, he had resolved himself to brush the whole thing off and return to business as usual, staying married to his job. But then he started seeing you everywhere. Had you always sat at that table with your friends during evening mess? How could he have not noticed you on the treadmill in the corner of the exercise room in the evenings? How many times had he passed you in some hall without noticing? And the more times he saw you going about your business, oblivious to him, the harder it got to ignore you. To say that he had been unable to get you out if his mind was an understatement.

He had finally cracked and had begun coming to the lab to drop off samples or collect the results of tests, which were sent directly to his PADD anyway, claiming that he wanted a verbal report. It had almost become a new habit for him. And he couldn’t but feel that you weren’t completely unaware of the reason for his increasing visits. He of course did not want to impose on you or come on too strongly. He was after all your commanding officer, and the last thing he wanted to do was to make you feel uncomfortable or pressured into something because of that power difference. So, he had been playing it close to the cuff, or at least making an attempt to. 

These were the thoughts that had occupied his mind as he shuffled slowly down the endless circular hall to the medbay. 

Meanwhile, back in the lab, you began the intake paperwork on your PADD for the Vulcan blood sample, which most likely belonged to Commander Spock. Kara came over and began pipetting the sample into several smaller vials for the tests in the standard Vulcan panel.

“So, did he say anything to you or just stare at you this time?” Kara asked with a light chuckle. 

“He just stared at me, muttered a few things.” You said as you continued the paperwork. “I don’t get it. I feel like he’s trying to ask me out, but then whenever he talks to me it just ‘uh, um, hey just stretching my legs.’”

Shaking her head, Kara replied, “Don’t be too hard on him. I heard what you said about the samples. Stop scaring men off with your talk about procedures and protocol.”

“Hey, protocol is important. Besides, I was trying find out if he is always coming down here to see me or if he’s just micromanaging.” You grumbled out.

“Well, most micromanaging superiors don’t get tongue-tied and blush.” She just rolled her eyes at you as she walked the vials over to another bench to add in the reagents, prepping them for the centrifuge. “You got the rest? I’m going to go finish the tests from yesterday.” She asked, smugly adding, “You can run the results up to medbay.”

You just shook your head with a laugh. But maybe she was onto something there. You had started noticing him noticing you. You had always noticed your CO around the ship; he was your CO, so why wouldn’t you? But before that evening when he huffed into the medical lab, he had never taken notice of you. But then again, why would he? You were a lab grunt, an ensign. While you were not _insignificant_ —what you and your colleagues did in the lab was vital for the operations of the medbay and people knew it—you weren’t necessarily, well, significant. Or at least you hadn’t been until recently.

And as you noticed his change in behavior, you felt yourself, against your better judgment, becoming interested. You knew that workplace crushes and romances were not a good idea, especially when he was your CO. But you were only human. He was so handsome. And sure he was a bit of a curmudgeon, but you’d be lying if said that wasn’t somehow an endearing quality. 

You were so occupied by your thoughts that you hadn’t realized you’d forgotten to counter balance the samples with water vials. Within moments you were abruptly thrown from your reverie as the centrifuge began jumping and hopping across the lab bench. Panicking slightly, you reached for the out-of-control machine to turn it off, but in your rush you accidentally pressed the button to open the lid rather than the power. The internal breaking system reacted immediately, flinging the vials out of the machine and directly at your face. Everything happened so fast you could not react or even register what was happening.

All you could feel was pain. Your neck, your face, your hands. A throbbing, stinging, pain. The last thing you remembered was the blurry form of Kara standing over you faintly calling your name, barely audible over the loud roaring and ringing in your ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun!! Cliffhanger, sorry not sorry. I’m not sure this was as soft as requested, but Leonard will be very soft, like a pillow.
> 
> For the scene where he meets reader, I was definitely channeling that scene in the 2005 Pride and Prejudice where Darcy comes to see Elizabeth and doesn’t have tea (you know, THAT scene).


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said before, I have no idea how medical things happen. All surgical stuff is the product of mad googling and a long journey through Memory Alpha (like the bone laser), but it’s not too detailed because I am wuss and cannot handle graphic stuff.
> 
> I’m going to add on a short (LOL) third part that will finally fully address the prompt. Jesus take the wheel.

McCoy had just entered the medbay and was making his way to his office to complete some paperwork. Although he wouldn’t admit it even to himself, he was feeling a bit dejected. While you hadn’t been rude to him or even rebuffed him in any way, you also hadn’t exactly been reassuring that his subtle advances were welcome, or at least that was how he had perceived it. And the reason for his dejection was the slow and reticent acceptance that maybe he was striving for something that could not be. Because he was the CMO, he felt it an inappropriate thing to ask you out as it would certainly put you in a position where you were obligated to say yes. He would never do that to anyone, let alone you. But there was still that nagging last remnant of careless youthfulness that argued for him to just give it a go. 

He was absent-mindedly sifting through the files on his PADD, not really even reading them, when a frantic nurse rushed through his office door.

“There’s been a lab accident, doctor!” And with that both he and the nurse were out the door.

“What can you tell me?” He asked, pulling on his surgical coat. 

“She’s just been brought in.” She was rapidly reading the brief report on a PADD while he prepped himself for surgery, “It was the medical testing lab; accident with some lab equipment; lacerations to face, neck, and hands; she had on goggles, good; but there was exposure to a Vulcan blood sample…”

 _Medical lab_. That one phrase stuck in his mind, and the room seemed to spin. A dull pounding started in his ears; it was his heartbeat. He could still faintly hear the nurse reading off the PADD. He needed to pull himself together. He needed to clear his head, and he needed to clear it now. 

“Patient name?!” He demanded.

Accustomed to such heated moments, the nurse called back, “Ensign Y/LN.”

His initial fear had just been confirmed. Why did it have to be you? McCoy swallowed, took a deep breath, and headed for the biobed where nurses were cleaning the wounds and prepping the protoplasers for what would be a very delicate procedure. While the damage to your face was not as severe as he’d initially imagined, your right hand was in bad shape as it had taken the brunt of the explosion when you had reached for the centrifuge.

“Nurse Chapel, is the patient prepped?” He asked stoically. Any emotions he’d had running through his heart and mind he shoved away in a small mental box. As in any surgery, he could not afford to let his feelings interfere with what needed to be done. 

“Yes, doctor.” With that simple phrase, McCoy began the surgery. Slipping into autopilot, he tried to stay detached.

After nearly two hours, you were put in a private room, where you would likely spend several days recovering under supervision. The surgery had been successful. You would only have minor scarring on the right side of your face, which had been injured worse than the left. Your right hand had sustained more damage, however. In addition to some very deep gashes, you had a few broken fingers and metacarpals, which were being slowly regenerated with laser therapy. 

McCoy was in the main part of the medbay, assisting the nurses in cleaning up, if not from generosity then at least in an attempt to keep his mind and his hands occupied. Kara, who had luckily been far enough away from the centrifuge to avoid any injury, was sitting at your bedside waiting for you to wake up. McCoy couldn’t keep himself away any longer.

“She was pretty heavily sedated, so she might not come out of it for a while.” He said leaning against the doorway. 

“I know; I just need to be here, you know? For when she wakes up?” She said plaintively. 

“I understand. I’ll, uh, be just out in the medbay should you need anything.” He said, fatigue accenting every word, “Let me know as soon as she wakes up.”

“Wait,” Kara called, looking over her shoulder, “Are _you_ ok?”

He looked at her, puzzled. What was she getting at? “Well these surgeries can be quite exhausting.”

“That’s not what I mean.” She looked at him knowingly as he came into the room, standing at the foot of the biobed. “I’ve seen the way you look at her, if you don’t mind me saying, the way you always come down to the lab.”

McCoy couldn’t figure out if he was more embarrassed or impressed by Kara’s observations. “And what way have I been looking at her?” He asked, feigning ignorance.

“You know. You look at her with those puppy-dog eyes. It’s kind of cute actually,” she said dryly.

Puppy-dog eyes? He figured it was best not to ask. “Is it that obvious?” He barely whispered, taking a seat on the other side of your bed.

“Only to me, I think. Y/N certainly hasn’t caught on, at least not as well as I have.” Kara pondered, “But I think she’s not completely oblivious of you.”

McCoy nodded slowly, looking down at you. “She’s somethin’ else, isn’t she?”

Kara gave him a penetrating look. “She’s one of my best friends,” there was a slightly warning edge to her voice, “but…if you’re interested in her, just ask her out. Simple as that.”

He sighed and shook his head, “I’m her CO. I don’t want to make her feel pressured into anything.”

Kara smirked, “In case you haven’t noticed, doc, she’s a stickler for protocol. I mean, other than this huge oversight, that is,” she gestured at your bed-bound form. “If she doesn’t want to go on a date, she won’t. And she knows the rules inside and out, she’ll not be cowed my some commanding officer.”

McCoy just smiled. You did seem to have a knack for what was supposed to be protocol and what wasn’t: for instance, CMOs fetching lab tests. “I’ll take your word for it.” He agreed. He got up from the chair. The brief talk had calmed his nerves, both with regards to the accident and with regards to his feelings for you. “Let me know when she wakes…and, thank you.”

Kara smiled softly up at him, “You’re a good guy, doc.”

* * *

Your head felt foggy and there was a dull ache enveloping you. Your eyes were dry, and it felt like you had cotton in your throat. As you blinked your parched lids, the first thing you saw was Kara, sitting by your bed. 

“Welcome back.” She said quietly.

“Water…” was all you could croak out. She handed you a small cup, which your drank down. “What hap− Am I in the medbay?”

“Yeah. You didn’t balance the centrifuge, dummy. Your face and hand got blown up,” seeing the look on your face as you reached up to touch your cheek with your good hand, she quickly added, “but, but you’re fine. Dr. McCoy fixed you right up. There shouldn’t be too much scarring.”

“Kara, can you just start from the beginning?” You asked, voice still gravelly. She filled you in on everything, except, of course, for her conversation with McCoy. As you listened, you couldn’t keep your mind from returning to the fact that McCoy had been the one to see to you. Finally, when you had exhausted Kara’s knowledge of the accident and your prognosis, she excused herself back to the lab, to assist in the clean up and repairs.

As soon as she left, Dr. McCoy walked in, his brows furrowed with concern. You just looked up at him, your heart beating a little faster. Hearing the increase of your heart rate on the monitor, he hurried over and ran his tricorder over you.

“Your heart rate is a bit elevated.” He murmured, looking at you with a clinical eye.

“I guess it’s all just kind of hitting me, you know?” You responded shakily. He looked you in the eyes, making your heart jump. 

“Damn, well, I may need to give you a mild sedative to calm you down.” He said, making a note in his PADD. Great. 

“It’s nothing, Dr. McCoy. I just, uh, well, I’m just stressed. No biggie.” You tried to smile naturally. That seemed to placate him for the time being.

“I suppose Ensign Sadik filled you on the relevant details?” McCoy asked, fidgeting with the bone regenerator. 

“More or less.” You said, still looking at him and trying to catch his eye. Was he avoiding looking at you? “How long am I gonna be in here?”

He finally looked up at you, again causing a slight flutter in your chest. His eyes flicked to the monitor, his lips twitching upward fleetingly. “I want you in here for at least the next 48 hours, maybe longer if I decide your hand isn’t up to snuff. I’ll also need to have additional blood samples tested then to make sure you haven’t been exposed to any pathogens.” He smirked and added wryly, “And I’ll make sure that another technician runs these tests.”

You groaned. You knew you had messed up, big time. “I just got distracted is all.”

“Well that distraction could have cost you your eyesight, at least you remembered your goggles.” He reached up to your face, gently prodding and examining the faint scarring. Damn that heart rate monitor, damn it straight to hell.

He looked up at the monitor, again, and made a note in his PADD, again. “You know, I’m surprised that it was you, of all people, who forgot to balance the centrifuge. You being such a stickler for standard procedures and all.” He joked as he peeled back the small bandage on your neck.

“Like I said; it wasn’t intentional. I was just distracted.” Now you were avoiding his eyes, willing your heart to regulate itself.

“And what exactly had you so distracted that you didn’t remember basic lab safety?” His fingers inadvertently brushed your chin. He’d be lying if said he was unaware of the effect he was having on you; now he just had to decide if it was a good thing or a bad thing. 

“I was just, you know, thinking about…stuff…” You dodged his question with the finesse of a toddler. 

He looked at you searchingly. “You know, you can tell me. Doctor/patient confidentiality and all.” He remarked with a slight smirk. 

Your heart still beating too fast, you decided to just fess up. “Well then, Dr. McCoy, in truth, I was wondering why my CO kept visiting me in the lab under the pretext of wanting a verbal report on test results.” 

McCoy’s heart began catching up with yours. “I− well, damn, I’ll just come out with it then.” He looked at you furtively. “I’ve been trying to decide whether or not to ask you on a date. I know as your CO, that there is a very fine ethical line that I’m treading. I didn’t want you to feel pressured, but Ensign Sadik assured me that you probably know the rules better than most ethics lawyers, and I haven’t dated anyone in for a while…” He trailed off when he looked up and saw your expression. Your brows were furrowed in slight concern at his monologue, but the expression was softened by your smile. That was at least a little encouraging.

If your right hand hadn’t been covered in bandages and under a laser, you would have reached out to take his hand, and you didn’t think that you could reach over with your left without shifting your other arm too much. “You ok?” You asked simply, lifting one brow in a smirk.

At that, McCoy allowed himself to smile. Because the man seemed to have a slight frown permanently fixed on his face, you were fairly certain that this was the first you’d ever see him smile. You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. His smile was so dorky, such a contrast to his normally grumpy demeanor.

He laughed softly in return. “Ah, I’m sorry, I’m makin’ a mess of this. Hearing that there had been a lab accident and then finding out it was you, well, I guess I’m a bit stressed too. And I couldn’t let you leave this medbay without at least telling you how I feel.” Turning a bit serious, he continued, “If you’re not interested, just say the word, and I’ll never bother you again. I’ll even sign over all day-to-day supervision to Dr. M’Benga.”

How had you not had a heart attack yet, what with all the flits and flutters this conversation was causing, all of which were immortalized by the monitor’s incessant beeping. “I− uh, a date, sounds nice.” You stuttered out. “Now, could you turn that thing off before I embarrass myself any more?” You added, gesturing to the damnable machine.

McCoy chuckled, “Sorry, darlin’. I’m afraid that needs to stay on until the laser regenerator finishes its work.” He walked to the other side of your bed where the monitor was located, “But I think we can lower the volume a bit.” 

He looked down at you with the softest expression. “You really mean it? If you’re just saying that−”

“I mean it, Dr.− I guess I can call you Leonard?” You cut him off, looking at him earnestly.

McCoy was in a bit of shock. He’d spent nearly the last month trying to approach you, and now that it was all happening, he was feeling a bit overwhelmed. Thoughts of Jocelyn flitted through his mind. Could make even a small leap again? He then felt a soft hand cupping his.

He looked down from his anxious reflection. It must have shown on his face because you were looking up at him with concern, gently stroking the back of his hand; he gave it a gentle squeeze. You don’t know unless you try, he mused to himself. 

He lowered himself down to your level and slowly leaned his head in toward yours. Your heart was racing, and you tried to block out the sound of the beep beep beep. His lips finally found yours. It was a soft, tender kiss, leaving you burning for more. The beeping wouldn’t let up. McCoy gently pulled back and asked cheekily, “Am I going to need to get that sedative?”

Your lips pressed into a reluctant smile, “You’re not one to talk. Kissing your patients? Total disregard for protocol.” Giving him the sass right back.

“Well maybe I can distract you from that concern too.” He quipped, pressing his lips to yours again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one can possibly convince me that Karl Urban’s smile isn’t the dorkiest smile in existence. Handsome, but SO dorky.


	3. Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final part that finally fully addresses my prompt request. Thanks for reading!

Leonard once again found himself walking down to the medical lab with a slight skip in his step, only this time there were no samples for testing. There was no need for any such pretext because you and he had been dating quite happily for several months now, and it was becoming quite routine that one or the other of you would come by after your shifts to eat dinner together. 

When he got to the lab, he realized that you hadn’t seen or heard him come in as you were quite preoccupied with your work. The rustling of your lab coat and the clinking of glass were the only sounds in the lab. He leant against the wall and watched as you diligently worked, labeling and loading test tubes into a rack for refrigeration. A concentrated pout had settled on your lips as you carried out the tedious task. He couldn’t look away from you.

He couldn’t believe it had been three months already since that first date. The ‘date’ had been on the day after your surgery. You and he had sat cross legged on your biobed and ate replicator food while you got to know each other. There had been no need for him to walk you back to your rooms since you were still confined under observation, but he had allowed you to stretch your legs and take a few laps around the medbay. You had held his hand the whole time. He smiled at the memory. He had known even then that he would fall for you, a prospect that excited him as much as it frightened him. Despite the fact that he had no plans of ending this relationship with you, deep inside, he was fighting against his growing feelings for you. Feelings like these were scary. Feelings like these had once before been followed by a marriage and later, a divorce. Feelings like these were dangerous. He cleared his throat, as much to distract himself from his thoughts as to alert you to his presence. 

“Oh, hey Len,” you beamed up at him. He loved it when you called him that. It had been on your third, no, fourth date that you had, out of nowhere, called him ‘Len.’ But it had fallen off your tongue so naturally, that it hadn’t even caught him off guard. “I’ll be done in just a minute.”

“Take your time darlin’. Don’t want you blowing up the fridge.” He teased, but regretted the words as soon as they came out. After years of sarcastically saying whatever came to mind around Jim, Leonard found himself putting his foot in his mouth around you a little too much for his comfort.

“Oh, you’re so funny.” You retorted, grinning despite the sarcasm that dripped off each syllable. “You’re never going to let me live that one down are you?”

“Well, you did almost get your hand blown off,” he grumbled back, the joke wearing thin. He could still feel the fear that had gripped his heart when he had seen you lying on the biobed being prepped for surgery. He shouldn’t have joked about it. It wasn’t funny.

“Oh, c’mon, Len,” you said, looking at him tenderly, “it’s only a joke.” You turned back to your work, “Besides, you started it.”

He reluctantly smiled at that. You glanced over at him, a glint in your eyes. And right underneath, there were three faint scars. You had been a little self-conscious about them at first, but he assured you that they had done nothing to ruin your beautiful face, or as you jokingly called it, ‘the money maker.’ If he was completely honest, they actually suited you quite well, adding to your beauty rather than taking away. Of course, you had joked on that first date that you could tell people you had been in a bar fight with broken bottles if your toughness were ever questioned. Your ability to smile through the pain was just one of the things that endeared you to him.

He really had known then on that first date that he was going to fall for you, that he was a goner. Despite the pain of his divorce, the aftermath of the custody battle, and the fear of ever having to go through any of that again, he was teetering right on the edge of a cliff. No matter how hard he struggled in private moments, he was only human; he couldn’t fly. And in that moment as he watched you carefully placing the test tube rack into the refrigerator, for whatever reason, he stopped fighting it. He embraced the rushing of the wind and the pull of gravity, and he fell. 

“Hey, you alright? Len?” You were looking up at him with worry. You had already cleared off your lab bench and had hung up your lab coat. He must have drifted away mentally for at least a couple minutes.

“Oh, I’m fine. I was just thinking, about…something,” his own words faintly echoed yours as you had lain in the biobed after the surgery. 

You looked down at the floor, smiling slightly, “I think I’ve heard something like that before. In fact, I think I’ve said something like that before.” You smirked at him, but seeing his face drawn into frown, you eased up on the teasing. This was not one of the standard grumpy Leonard frowns. This one hovered around something more serious, more real. “You know you can tell me right?”

“I know,” he whispered, “I just, I don’t even know how to say it.” He looked at you with what could only be described as a heartfelt expression.

“Kiss,” you responded.

“What?” his creased brows contorted into a look of confusion. You wanted him to kiss you? How could that quell the rush of emotions he was experiencing?

“You know, kiss, K-I-S-S: keep it simple stupid.” You grimaced slightly, realizing that you weren’t helping him with whatever was bothering him. “What I mean, is you can just tell, no need to belabor it.”

His frown faded somewhat as realization dawned on him. Of all the times and of all the places to declare his love for you, of course it would be right here, in the lab. This was place where you had first sabotaged his post-divorce bachelorhood, where he had arrived at that cliff, where not five minutes ago he had irrevocably given over his heart to you. But you were right. Keep it simple stupid.

“I love you.” The words lingered in the air. K-I-S-S: no need to explain how he had struggled with it. No need to say anything else. The rest could wait. For now he just needed to say it. “I love you, Y/N.”


End file.
